


No Time For Subtlety

by Ulalume



Series: Major Grys [5]
Category: Star Wars: The Old Republic
Genre: F/M, Gen, Grys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-27
Updated: 2013-05-27
Packaged: 2017-12-12 19:16:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/815063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ulalume/pseuds/Ulalume
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Same story as <em>Standard Procedures</em>, opposite perspective.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Time For Subtlety

**Author's Note:**

> Same spoilers as the last fic: trooper class story and female trooper/Aric Jorgan romance (may include spoilers through the first part of Act III). Timeline: after Jorgan’s  _Casualties of War_  and includes  _A Private Matter_.

Aric Jorgan hadn’t intended to throw his plans out the window. He certainly hadn’t meant to do so in public, and not when they were essentially on the clock. He liked to be prepared, to make sure they had no distractions so that there were less chances for mistakes. In retrospect, he should have known better, because when it came to his CO, his plans had a way of changing.

Grys had suggested they walk to the debriefing together to discuss any last minute items. She had emerged from her quarters in a standard uniform, no armor, her hair still slightly damp from the shower. She lingered a few moments at the top of the stairs, fiddling with a buckle on her boot, then descended towards him. He watched her approach, perhaps enjoying the view a little too much. When she reached the bottom of the stairs, she stopped at his side and looked towards the exit. Jorgan was tempted to reach out and free the strand of dark teal hair that was trapped between her neck and the chain she always wore, silver glinting against her dusky skin. He averted his eyes and cleared his throat instead. “Ready?” she asked. He thought of possible answers he could give, but opted for “Right with you, boss,” and silently added “anywhere you go”.  
  
As he had fallen in step beside her, Jorgan wondered again how he could bridge the distance between them. When he returned to duty, he’d expected things to be routine…mostly. He hadn’t been prepared for the wall that Grys had slammed into place between them, not now that he knew she had been anything but objective about his injuries, about him. He’d tried to talk to her several times, but one thing or another had prevented the necessary privacy and Jorgan was was beginning to get frustrated.  
  
For him, the understanding that he had developed feelings for his CO arrived unexpectedly. They had been comfortably hanging out in the common area of the Thunderbolt, reading their datapads. He’d looked up to find her silently regarding him with those fathomless red eyes. She had held his gaze for several heartbeats before stating “You look good in that color.” She’d smiled enigmatically and added, “Maybe too good,” then returned to reading her reports. The witty retort died on his lips when he realized that could no longer make suggestive innuendos, not when he wanted to make good on them. He’d known since that night that he would not voluntarily leave her side.  
  
Occasionally, Jorgan had been sure there was an glimmer of something promising between them, but nothing had ever come of it, and protocol always kept him from overstepping his place. And Grys, well, she’d been almost stereotypically Chiss in her conduct.  
  
But everything had changed after The Gauntlet. If Jorgan had wondered about her intentions before, she’d made it clear that she cared for him deeply. Even in the kolto stasis, he’d been cognizant of her actions and words. Recovery had given him plenty of time to think things through, and he had decided that he wasn’t content to wait anymore. He wanted to pursue this.  
  
So when he found himself truly alone with her for the first time since he returned to duty, the overwhelming need to do something made him step forward and lightly grasp her arm. He knew it was inappropriate, but he had missed her smile, her closeness, her. He was _still_ missing her, and he didn’t want things to continue this way.  
  
“Sir, I wanted to let you know that I’m grateful to be back under your command, and I won’t fail you again.” The words rushed out of him. He could feel adrenaline surge, and a small twinge in the pit of his stomach.  
  
 _Okay…that wasn’t exactly what I meant to say_ , Jorgan grimaced. _Way to go_.  
  
Still, he watched closely for her reaction, and was pleased to see her briefly nonplussed before she’d composed herself. That fleeting joy was closely followed by sadness, as her reaction confirmed that she’d closed herself off, become guarded around him. When she dispassionately accepted his admission and reminded him he shouldn’t fail her, he only nodded.  
  
Although he did glower a little at the elevator doors when they opened.  
  
Despite their unfulfilling exchange, Jorgan was encouraged, and he went into the debriefing with some enthusiasm. Here, he was able to relax into routine and even found himself enjoying the report. It felt good to be back doing familiar things. Really good.  
  
Partway into the meeting, Jorgan realized Grys wasn’t paying close attention and felt a pang of guilt. He shouldn’t have distracted her before the debriefing but patience had never been his strong point. He could see the signs of anxiety building — she had this habit of fidgeting with her hands when agitated — and sought to bring her into the conversation, to give her something else on which to concentrate.  
  
“Is there something you wish to add, Major?” He turned towards her.  
  
Jorgan admired her professionalism. She didn’t miss a beat, giving a thorough report that complemented his. He listened, simply enjoying the sound of her voice. She was thanking the intelligence team for providing precise information because it had helped make their operation successful. He smiled because he knew she appreciated having as much information as possible before she made decisions. He’d teased her about it, since in the field, they often didn’t have that luxury.  
  
 _He’d once told her “Information is useful, but sometimes you have to go with your gut —”_ his thoughts trailed off as everything suddenly fell into place.  
  
Jorgan wondered how he had missed the obvious. As much as he liked order, she liked knowledge. And she was missing key information. _His_ information. He was aware of her feelings, but as far as she knew, he wasn’t interested. He glanced at her, then down at her hands again. She was clasping them together below the table now, as if trying to hold on to something.  
  
He wanted to give her that something. He wanted to be that something. _No time for subtlety_ , he thought, then reached over and slid his hand between hers, letting her squeeze her hands around his before she realized what he’d done.  
  
Her hands closed around his and stayed there, holding on to him. Gently, he stroked her skin with his thumb. It was inappropriate. Unprofessional. And so satisfying, that he didn’t want to let go when they were dismissed.  
  
At the elevator, he waited quietly for her to look at him, and when she did, he again affirmed his intent to stay by her side. He then gave her what she needed. He repeated her words back to her, the ones she’d meant just for him, and watched as she processed everything, her eyes widening with surprise.  
  
They stepped in to the elevator. He could feel the shaky after-effects of adrenaline start to kick in, and he nervously tried to express that he wanted more from her, from them, but that he knew he was crossing the line. He only made it partway through his thoughts when she stopped him.  
  
“Shut up and kiss me,” she ordered, closing the distance between them.  
  
“Yes, sir,” he pulled her into his arms, his lips meeting hers.  
  
They communicated in silence for the remainder of the elevator ride.

  
02.08.12  



End file.
